Looking for Whores
by Holdyournose
Summary: Warning: This fic contains lots of things of the sexual nature. Alban's looking for some sex, but his choices don't seem too appealing. Reviews are welcomed.


Looking for Whores

**Looking for Whores**

He's a short fic I wrote out of boredom. Before I begin, I just wanna let you guys know I've got a poll on my profile I'd like you to check out. Speaking of which, someone voted on it to see a story dealing with one of the topics I selected. However, I don't have any ideas on that subject yet, so just be patient. So, back to the one shot. Reviews would be appreciated.

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It was an ordinary night in the vermin camp. All the vermin were either eating whatever they caught that day, getting drunk, arguing, sleeping, or committing some sort of wrongdoing. Alban, a cream and chestnut-furred weasel, had something else on his mind.

He had already filled his belly with food and drink, he didn't feel like getting into some stupid argument with another beast, and he was nowhere near tired. He was, however, quite horny. He rose to his paws, adjusting his kilt. "I'm tired o' pawin' meself off. I gotta find me sum tail." Fortunately for him, he never knew a vermin camp to not have willing whores to help satisfy his sexual desires, no matter how disgusting or absurd.

Taking a few turns though the camp, the weasel finally came to an area of camp covered in tents. But tents weren't the only thing there. Several skimpy-dressed vermin stood around, some talking amongst each other. There were many different whores, but Alban kept his attention on the weasels. "Now, who's it gonna be this time?"

His dark eyes strayed towards a large, heavy set weasel by the name of Bertha. Whatever sort of clothing she was wearing looked as if it could rip at any moment. Alban shuttered as he remembered one of his drunken nights last season. He always had an insatiable hunger for sex whenever he was drunk, but the alcohol impaired his decision making skills quite a bit. One of the only things he could remember that night was having his ribs crushed as the fat weasel whore climbed on top of him. His ribs ached for several night falls afterwards. It wasn't all bad though. He found her chubby ass quite ideal for sex.

Shaking his head, Alban looked over at a different weasel whore, named Gram. Her name was short for 'grandma', because that's what she practically was. She was so old, her fur was patchy and grey. She looked so frail that Alban could imagine breaking her into pieces by hopping on top of her. He wasn't looking forward to all the wrinkles, but without any teeth, she had the potential for a good blowjob.

The next weasel he spied, one named Crabby, wasn't old or fat, which was a relief. However, Alban remembered having paid her once before for her services, which wasn't as pleasurable as he thought it would be. It started out alright, the male weasel pounding away at her all night long. However, the following morning brought unneeded visitors. His groin region itched mercilessly for the rest of that season. Not wanting to repeat the process, he decided to choose some other weasel.

The next weasel was dubbed 'The Freak' and had a crazed look in her eyes as well as a wicked grin on her face, causing Alban to shudder as he recalled his night he had with her a while back. It started simply with her tying his paws down, but then she brought out her whip. Alban had never been in so much pain in his life, so much that the sex wasn't even pleasurable for him. With most of the weasel whores eliminated from his list of possible sex partners, he continued his search.

A masculine looking whore named Manda, yet another one Alban had already spent the night with previously, caused him to nearly vomit. A couple of season ago, he paid Manda to pleasure him by giving him a paw job and licking him in various areas. After the foreplay, Alban ordered her to strip naked, only to find that she was actually a he. Manda's naked form still haunted his nightmares.

Only one choice remained, a whore named Violet. She had the hottest, slimmest figure out of any other weasels he had ever met. The mere mention of her name gave most mails a slight erection. However, she was reserved strictly for the captain. He had heard of a weasel who tried to have sex with Violet in a drunken stupor. No one ever saw that weasel again, but the next day, everyone had a delicious meat stew for breakfast.

Alban sighed with defeat as he realized that all the whores their ups and downs. He couldn't choose who to have sex with, but he wasn't about to go to sleep unsatisfied. "Come on, who's it gonna be?"

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He's where the reader comes in. Who do you think Alban should have sex with? Or should he simply 'take care of himself'? Make your pick in your review. The choice with the most votes gets featured in part two of this fic. Reviews are appreciated.


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